Dancing With Tears In My Eyes
by MNMmie
Summary: "Dance for me, Ziva." He whispered. Gibbs/Ziva and a song. Revised 4/11/12


**Title: Dancing With Tears In My Eyes**

**Disclaimer: I own NCIS... Yeah right, would be nice if I could put that above my stories, don't you think? Neither do I own the song; it belongs to Ultravox, 'Dancing with tears in my eyes'.**

**Spoilers: Some slight ones for 'Rule 51' and some others of season 7 (if you want to see it). Oh, and 'Enemies Foreign' although I have never seen that episode myself (also only if you want to see it).**

**Summary: "Dance for me, Ziva." He whispered. Gibbs/Ziva and a song.**

**Warnings: No need.**

**A/N: I heard the first line of this song and I knew I had to write this. ****Enjoy!**

_Dancing with tears in my eyes  
Weeping for the memory of a life gone by_

It had been her mother who had danced with her. From the moment she could walk, maybe even before that. She would turn on the radio and they would move, jump, dance on whatever melody was playing.

When Ziva was four her mother took her to a ballet class. Never had she enjoyed something as much as she enjoyed those ballet classes. And she was good.

When she was six Ziva danced her first official dance, she had gotten the short solo part their teacher had created in their piece. She had seen her mother in the crowd, watching, her eyes beaming with pride. Ziva danced as she had never danced before. Just before she finished her solo part she saw her father walk into the room. When he saw her he smiled and afterwards he told he was proud of her. She would become the best ballet dancer in the world.

_Dancing with tears in my eyes  
Living out a memory of a love that died_

Then her mother died and everything changed. Her father cried. Eli David wept for the love of his life. And never was Ziva able to forget that image of her father crying; it was probably the last time he ever had.

After that he was away most the time, away from all the memories tied to the house; he worked, climbed the ranks within Mossad. No longer did he have time for his daughters, no longer was he pride meant dancing little girls.

Ziva took care of her little sister, raised her; something her father should have done. She knew it was expected of her that she would do it instead of him, so she did. She tried to make her father smile again, she tried to make him proud. Nothing worked.

One thing did not change: Ziva kept following her ballet classes, never did she miss one. And then there was that other show, she was twelve by now and again she danced a solo part.

As she looked around the room, she found her sister's admiring eyes and an empty chair. He did not show up, and when she finished her dance she felt the tears sting in her eyes.

When she was sixteen he told her to stop dancing, he had something better for her to do. Two years later she joined the army, as one of the best soldiers they ever had. Later she joined Mossad, trained as if she had been with them for years already.

_It's five and I'm driving home again  
It's hard to believe that it's my last time_

It was the day before the ceremony, they had all promised to come and she knew they would. But now, driving home, she could not help but wonder. Had she made the right decision? Would she ever truly be able to distance herself from Israel, from her father? Did she truly want to become an American citizen?

Yes, she decided. Yes, she was making the right decision. Finally she would be free of her father. This was the last time she would ride home as a foreigner, tomorrow she would officially become an American. And it was the best decision of her live.

_The man on the wireless cries again  
It's over, it's over_

The song she heard on the radio reminded her of what her father would say. And she worried again. She was making a mistake, she knew for sure.

When she got home she made her way down to the basement. She had known he was home again as soon as she had opened the door, finally and on time. She put her arms around him, but doing so her mind went back to her father again. What would he say, if he ever found out who she loved, who she lived with? What would he do?

She pulled back with a shock. She was making the biggest mistake of her live.

"Ziva, what is wrong?" He asked, as he felt her pull back and heard her stumble backwards, away from him.

"I cannot do this. I cannot become an American. My father…" A finger on her mouth made her quiet.

"No. Do not start that again. You want this, we have gone over this before. Don't worry about your father, think about what YOU want." She tried, but could not stop the tear that leaked down her cheek.

"I have to give up Israel, I have to give up everything…" She said softly.

"I know." He said, before he pulled her close.

_Dancing with tears in my eyes  
Weeping for the memory of a life gone by_

"Ziva, I'm sorry." Gibbs pleaded.

"No you are not! Apologizing is a sign of weakness, you will never be truly sorry!" She yelled at him.

"Do you know how you made me feel? Do you know what I was forced to see, again? What I saw was an empty chair! Not one, but two! You sent Tony away! You did not show up, while you had nowhere else to be! You are no better than my father!" And at that she broke.

It was too much, she had found him in his basement, sanding as if he did not even realize that he had been supposed to be somewhere. Only the sawdust-stained suit betrayed his original intentions. But it had not been enough.

And now all he could offer was 'I am sorry', she knew it was all he could do; but it was not enough.

_Dancing with tears in my eyes  
Living out a memory of a love that died_

She moved out of the house, back to an apartment. She could not help comparing his actions to her father's and she could not forgive him. But she started dancing again: if she broke with her country, with her father by taking that oath, then she could also do what she loved to do most. So she danced.

She loved to dance and she had not lost her talent, but something was missing. He was missing. She could not help but miss him. Every day, every hour she did not see him and even while they were working together: she missed him.

After a few months there was a dance recital, and just as long ago she got a solo part. But this time she was sure. There would be no one to watch.

He walked in after the show had started. He was not sure if he was supposed to be here, but he came anyway.

When they started to dance, she did not even notice him. She danced and her eyes stung with tears that threatened to fall with the memories of her last show. The empty chair, the pain she felt that day.

Just as the music stopped and they bowed, she saw him. He smiled, he even looked a little proud and one tear dropped out of the corner of her eye.

_It's late and I'm with my love alone  
We drink to forget the coming storm_

She had come home with him. She wanted to, she had to. Coming into the house she realized how long she had not been there, how much she had missed this place. How she longed to be here, stay here. She wanted to come home again.

But she had yet to forgive him, and the silence between them was highly uncomfortable. They did not and could not talk as they used to.

So she just sat on the stairs and watched him work for a while. She sipped her beer, although she had already had too much. She did not care. She was lost in thought and did not notice him until he sat down next to her. He took the drink from her hand.

"I am sorry, Ziva. That is all I can give you." She nodded.

_We love to the sound of our favorite song  
Over and over_

When she woke up the next morning it took her some time to realize where she was. It was not her bedroom and yet it was. She was back in a room she had left over a year ago. She smelt the familiar scents of coffee and sawdust.

It was not yet how it had once been, but is was going to be alright. They would find a way.

She came back, sold her apartment and with her came back everything he had missed that year. The house was more peaceful with her there and it was no longer quiet. With her she had brought back music, and although he never saw her do it, he knew she danced. Every day.

_Dancing with tears in my eyes  
Weeping for the memory of a life gone by_

"Dance for me, Ziva." Her father had gone back to Israel. She was upset, he knew. He felt it, he saw it, as he had always been able to make out how she felt.

When he had come home, he noticed she had turned on some music again. She had been sitting on the floor. Listening, with tears in her eyes. He pulled her up and kissed her softly.

"Dance for me." He whispered again.

_Dancing with tears in my eyes  
Living out a memory of a love that died_

She could no longer control her emotions. With tears running down her cheeks she pulled away from him and danced. She danced like she had never done before, all her energy, all of her emotions she poured into the dance. He watched, silently.

_It's time and we're in each other's arms  
It's time but I don't think we really care_

Then the music stopped and he was only just in time to catch her, as she was no longer able to stand on her own. He held her up and let her cry.

"I love you." He whispered and all she could do was nod.

_Dancing with tears in my eyes  
Weeping for the memory of a life gone by  
Dancing with tears in my eyes  
Living out a memory of a love that died_

_Dancing with tears in my eyes  
Weeping for the memory of a life gone by  
Dancing with tears in my eyes_

**A/N2: Timeline is wrong, I know. But I needed more than a year between 'Rule 51' and 'Enemies Foreign', so I put it there.**

**A/N3: Did not turn out exactly as I had intended it, but I hope you still liked it. ****Let me know what you think! **

**Review! - MNMmie**


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